Chapter 23 - Under the Mountain
“Under the mountain” sounded like the kind of phrase criminals used when they wanted to feel mysterious.
Katherine meant it literally.
Caldwell controlled access to an abandoned hydroelectric maintenance tunnel near the Columbia River.
Decades earlier, workers had used it to reach utility chambers beneath a mountain ridge.
Safe Harbor’s foundation later purchased adjoining land through a development company.
Nobody had connected the property to Caldwell.
Until Katherine.
The eastbound boat disappeared from cameras near Cascade Locks.
A truck waited at a private dock.
By the time police reached it, Caldwell, Clara, and two armed men were gone.
But tire tracks led directly toward the old utility property.
We established a perimeter.
Reeves studied engineering plans.
“There are three known entrances.”
Katherine shook her head.
“Four.”
“Where’s the fourth?”
“River side. Below the old turbine chamber.”
“Can he escape through it?”
“Yes.”
“Vehicle?”
“No. Boat.”
Morales sighed.
“Of course there’s another boat.”
A tactical team prepared to enter.
Then my phone rang.
Caldwell.
“You’re persistent.”
“Clara.”
“Alive.”
“Prove it.”
A muffled sound.
Then Clara’s voice.
“Jack?”
“I’m here.”
“He has—”
The line shifted.
Caldwell returned.
“That’s enough.”
“What do you want?”
“The correct key.”
I looked toward Katherine.
She shook her head.
“Release Katherine at the north entrance,” Caldwell said. “No trackers.”
“Then Clara walks out first.”
“No.”
“Then you don’t get your money.”
Silence.
I pushed.
“You’ve lost your people. Your houses. Your charity. Your public reputation is going to disappear the second your name hits every news station in America.”
“You think reputation matters?”
“It mattered enough for you to spend twenty years pretending to be a hero.”
That struck something.
His breathing changed.
“You’re very proud of yourself.”
“No.”
I looked toward the dark tunnel entrance.
“I’m proud of Liam.”
Caldwell went silent.
“He beat you.”
“Careful.”
“A seven-year-old boy walked into a police station and destroyed everything you built.”
“You have no idea what I built.”
“You built something a child could break by telling the truth.”
The line disconnected.
Morales stared at me.
“You enjoy provoking armed fugitives?”
“Only arrogant ones.”
A tactical commander approached.
“We detected movement in the southern passage.”
Katherine examined the plans.
“He’s repositioning.”
“Why?”
“Because he thinks you’re going through the main entrance.”
“So?”
“He’ll use the turbine route.”
The commander redirected teams.
I stayed at command.
Minutes crawled.
Then gunfire echoed underground.
Radio traffic erupted.
“Contact!”
“Suspect down!”
“Hostage located!”
My heart stopped.
“Status on hostage?”
Static.
Then:
“Female hostage alive. Repeat, hostage alive.”
I closed my eyes.
Clara.
Morales grabbed my shoulder.
“They got her.”
“Caldwell?”
A long pause.
“Primary suspect not located.”
Of course.
Clara emerged twenty minutes later wrapped in a blanket.
Bruised.
Exhausted.
Alive.
She walked straight toward me.
“Where’s Liam?”
“Safe.”
Her knees nearly gave out.
I caught her.
“He’s safe?”
“Yes.”
She pressed both hands over her face and cried.
Not for herself.
For her son.
Then she pulled away.
“Caldwell went through the floor.”
“What?”
“There’s a metal hatch in the room where he kept me.”
Katherine heard.
Her face changed.
“The drainage shaft.”
“Where does it go?”
“The river entrance.”
Marine teams moved immediately.
Too late.
A small hidden boat had already left.
No lights.
No transponder.
Caldwell was gone.
Again.
But Clara had seen something before he escaped.
“He had a folder.”
“What kind?”
“Blue.”
Katherine stared at her.
“Did it have a white stripe?”
“Yes.”
Katherine whispered, “Anna.”
I turned.
“What?”
“That folder contained my daughter’s file.”
The daughter missing for twenty-four years.
“Why would Caldwell carry it now?”
Katherine’s face crumpled.
“Because he always told me Anna was dead.”
“And?”
May you like
Clara answered before she could.
“Maybe she wasn’t.”
